


Castiel's Propellor Dick

by SamanthaBlue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, M/M, Season 9, Smut, angel anatomy, propellor dicks, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:58:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1959336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaBlue/pseuds/SamanthaBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas lost his wings in the Fall, but that doesn't stop him from flying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Castiel's Propellor Dick

**Author's Note:**

> More cracky smut from the writer of truly dumb fanfiction. Sorry >.

Cas rocked forward, hard, and Dean grunted, putting forth a hand to stop his head hitting the headboard. Dean preferred it like this, hard, impersonal, Castiel rutting into him from behind. Cas knew why he wanted it like this rather than slow and romantic like Cas preferred. Dean, for some reason Cas did not quite understand, didn’t see what Cas saw in him. He didn’t see the purity in his soul like Cas did. 

Dean’s breaths were coming shorter, faster as he neared completion. He stuck his hand underneath himself, aiming to fist himself to completion, and Cas’s heart twisted again. After seven months together, Dean still didn’t expect help finishing. 

Cas reached down, tugging Dean’s wrist away and grabbing his cock. Cas had never participated in the carnal acts, never “wanked” as Sam and Dean termed it, but he had learned fast when he had started this relationship with Dean. He gripped him firmly, running his fist up and down and adding a twisting motion he knew Dean liked. He felt himself grow closer to the edge, his thrusts becoming more erratic. He had been so inexperienced before he began this relationship with Dean – he had never understood the pleasures humans took from sex. Now that he knew, now that he understood, he loved nothing more than reaching completion inside Dean. 

His vessel’s balls were drawing up; he was ready to let go. Underneath him, Dean keened as he came in Cas’s hand, and Cas groaned as Dean’s inner muscles pulsed around him. 

But something happened before Cas could finally come. At the very edge of his consciousness but growing louder by the second was the rushing sound not unlike the ocean that came with only one thing.

Cas was being summoned.

His wings were gone, lost in the Fall, but the loss of his wings had no effect on summoning magic. There was only one way for him to travel now, and sure enough he felt a tingling in his penis that had nothing to do with the pleasure that came with being buried deep in Dean’s ass. 

Almost in a panic, he wrenched his dick free. Dean grunted at the probably painful movement, rolling over onto his back as Cas got to his feet. “Cas, what?” he questioned.

“Ah –“ Cas said, looking hastily downwards. Sure enough, his cock was beginning to move on its own, swaying back and forth as though being pushed. Cas was so hard it should not have been moving at all, but his vessel’s carnal arousal was no match for angelic powers. “There’s something I never told you about angel physiology,” he stammered out.

Dean looked like he was going to ask another question, but instead his eyes widened as his gaze was drawn down to Cas’s crotch. Cas’s angelic dick had begun to spin in slow circles from the base, but it was gaining speed quickly.

Dean’s mouth dropped open. Poor Cas didn’t have time to explain. His propeller dick was now spinning so fast that his feet had begun to lift off the floor. Pulled up by his crotch, his hips and upper thighs growing cold from the air generated by his spinning dick, Castiel rose like the angel he was, majestic in his naked glory.

Dean’s room in the bunker vanished below him, and Cas flew towards whoever was summoning him. He began to slow down above a motel, a cheap, anonymous motel like those Cas had grown used to staying in with the Winchesters over the years. He flew straight through the roof, his grace allowing his body to ignore the physical immovability of the building, and his bare feet touched cheaply carpeted floor. His propeller dick began to slow, spinning in slow, lazy circles until it came to a halt, still jutting straight upwards. Apparently a long flight was not enough to make his body forget the pleasure that was to be found in Dean’s ass.

Cas felt something large and soft collide with his body, and he belatedly threw up his hands to catch it. It was a pair of paint-stained pants.

“Jesus, Cas, I just needed a hand with this hunt, I didn’t order a strip show!” cried Sam.

Really, Cas should have known it was Sam. Sam had been praying to him all day, but Cas had been too caught up in his marathon sex session with Dean. 

He did love both Winchester boys, he mused as he pulled on the pants Sam had thrown him. He loved them both, but in very, _very_ different ways.


End file.
